Three Days
by startraveller776
Summary: Trapped in solitary imprisonment, Loki discovers he has enough of his magic left to him to alter reality—if only temporarily. What he experiences is far more than he bargained for. (Lokane)


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, just my sordid imagination. No copyright was harmed in the weaving of this tale.  
**Rating: **PG-13

**A/N:** You never saw me post this story, because I am vehemently and resolutely not adding another fandom to my list—despite Thor being my favorite superhero and Loki my favorite villain. (And oh, how I love Loki.)

I think this takes place between _The Avengers_ and _Thor 2_. And considering that _Thor 2_ is still a half a year away from its release date (I'm sure you all weep with me), this tale may turn out to be slightly AU.

Theme song: "Losing Your Memory" by Ryan Star

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**Prologue:  
**_Devious Designs_

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Changing reality is a delicate art. The ignorant call this dream-weaving or illusions, and while the specters Loki can create of himself are simple shadows, what he conjures now will be so complete, so utterly tangible, that no one will be capable of discerning the difference—including him. The spell is not permanent, though as Loki looks down at the Asgardian flesh of his arms, he knows it could be. Unfortunately, only Odin knows such secrets, and the All-father is not particularly keen on revealing them to his pet Jötunn.

Loki will have his new reality, shaped to fit his designs, for as long as his abilities will permit, but the process is arduous. Not a single detail can be out of sync, lest the bubble shatters. He isn't merely changing a single object, but everything. And this requires time.

But then, time is all Loki has now.

The passing of day and night is beyond his notice deep in the vaults of stolen relics. Dangerous relics. Odin had once denied that Loki was a souvenir taken from Jötunheim, kept until he had use for him. Dark laughter escaped Loki's lips when the Asgardian guards led him to the crystal prison in the same spanning crypt where the Casket of Ancient Winters resides.

"Oh, I like your sense of humor, _Father_," he said, flashing his teeth in a brittle smile as he was sealed into his cell. Odin stared at him wordlessly, pity drawing tears to his aged eyes. Pity that made Loki surge with rage. He slammed a fist into the clear wall and yelled at the All-father's retreating form. "How dare you weep for the monster you created!"

Loki felt some satisfaction when his cutting words gave Odin pause. "You should have left me to die in the frost when I was a babe," he continued, seeking to drive the knife deeper into Odin's heart just as the All-father had driven one into his. "Even Laufey must have known what I would become. You fool! The blood I spilt is on your hands, _Father_."

Odin spun around, his jaw set, and Loki waited, heart hammering, for his words. Surely the great king would finally unleash his wrath on this unfit prince of Asgard. Odin sighed, suddenly hunched and worn. After a long silence, he shook his head. "No, Loki. You chose hatred and jealousy over love. You chose to be the monster when you should have been a prince." He pinned Loki with a piercing gaze. "But you have ever been and always will be my son."

There was no anger in his eyes, unlike when he banished Thor to Midgard, as if Loki was not worth the effort to generate such a passionate response. Instead, tired disappointment creased deeper the lines of Odin's face. Disappointment and sorrow.

Loki wanted to claw at his so-called father for that pretense of love. "You had better kill me," he growled, his voice cracking with hatred and pain, "before I find a way out of this box and lay waste to all that you hold precious."

Odin suffered him one final look of sadness before turning away.

"You better kill me!" Loki screamed, pounding against the crystal so hard that agony splintered through his hands. "_You better kill me!_" He repeated his visceral cry until his throat was raw, until stinging tears rolled down his cheeks.

Odin does not visit again.

Thor comes twice, but Loki ignores him, uninterested in his adopted brother's appeals. How many attempts did he have to make on Thor's life before the dullard understood there was nothing left of the boy he'd been raised with? Even their shared childhood was a lie. Loki is Jötunn and Thor an Asgardian. They are mortal enemies—a fact that Loki has come to understand. His soft-hearted not-brother clings to sentiment, and the novelty has worn off for Loki.

Frigga never descends to these catacombs, and whatever vestige of love he still bore for his mother begins to shrivel.

He no longer knows how long it's been since he was put in this cell and forgotten like the rest of Odin's trophies collecting dust. Days, weeks, months, years—all meaningless. He is already mad, driven so by betrayal, by his descent into the wake of the dying bifrost, by his torturous captivity in the hands of Thanos. Eternity spent ignored in Asgard's mausoleum is nothing compared to the pains he's already endured.

At least, this is what he tells himself as he paces the length of the small cell.

He amuses himself by imaging how things might have turned out differently had he been more cunning. Ruling Asgard. Bringing Midgard to its knees. Wiping Jötunheim from existence. Beautiful thoughts that make his heart race, his blood sing, as he pictures each scenario in vivid detail. The last is a special favorite, for without Jötunheim can Loki truly be a Jötunn? Without a legacy of frost giant barbarism, will he no longer be a monster himself?

The questions churn his stomach and he doesn't let them linger. Odin already tried to erase Loki's heritage with his lies and magic. Why should Loki think the destruction of his birthplace would have succeeded where the All-father failed?

In bleaker moments, Loki wonders how long before Odin pities him enough to end this unrelenting tedium with blessed death. Or will Loki remain here forever, put on display when someday Thor brings his sons to recount the great conquests. When they arrive at the prison with its wild-eyed and haggard occupant, how will Thor spin the epic of Loki's demise? Will the defeated false son of Odin be expected to breathe out threats on cue, widening the children's eyes with fear until they recall his impotence?

He laughs feverishly at the miserable thought. So this is what the once king of Asgard has been reduced to. A pathetic creature to mock. Perhaps this punishment is far cleverer than he previously believed.

There is no escape; he's already attempted it a hundred different ways. The enchantments on this dungeon pen block his magic—or nearly all of it. He is left with only his illusions, which serve no useful purpose without a benefit of an audience. Odin is so certain of Loki's total confinement that he doesn't bother with guards. Or is it that he fears Loki's influence on such weak-minded simpletons? Either way, he is alone.

Infinitely.

Eventually Loki discovers that retaining power over perception also means he has sway over altered reality, and for the first time since his internment, he has purpose—if only a temporary distraction from the unrelenting nothingness of his life.

He spends many hours—or is it days?—pondering what dream he will live until it collapses under the limitations of his skill. After several tests, tentative pushes at the boundaries of Odin's enchantments, he finds to his pleasure that he has more freedom in this endeavor than the All-father should have left him. Freedom that Loki is more to happy to take advantage of.

The spell is nearly complete after the single-minded attention he has given it, like an experienced sculptor with his masterpiece. Loki smiles at his creation before pulling at the other consciousness that will share in his vision. He made a promise once to Thor, and with malicious delight, he has found a way to keep his word.

Oh, yes. This will be quite entertaining.

There is only one drawback to his designs, but under the circumstances, it seems more a blessing than a curse. He'll remember nothing of his current reality during his sojourn into fantasy. The dream will be as real to him as the slab of cold stone he sits on now, and he will not be able to alter it, shape it, while he is living within its confines. The price is too insignificant to give him pause.

Loki completes the spell and plunges into darkness.

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**A/N:** And so my descent into the Marvel Universe begins... Reviews are welcomed with open arms—all kinds!

I am not always very fast with updates, but I know exactly how this story is meant to go so long as Loki behaves. (Yes, I realize how laughable the idea of an obedient Loki is, but I'm sadly an optimist.) Anyway, I will update as quickly as I can.


End file.
